And just like that- it’s over yet again.

Well, I don’t have to worry about trying to feel better about our selected surrogate anymore.  Guess my gut was kinda right on this one.

We sent our surrogate to be screened at the IVF clinic this week to determine if she’s fit to be a surrogate and she is PREGNANT already.

There are no words to describe how I’m feeling right now.  Like I really needed this gigantic slap in the face from the universe.

Back to the drawing board.

How to be a friend?

Every infertile or RPL woman has to go through the pain of being surrounded by pregnant women.  Sometimes it’s close friends, sometimes family members, and other times it’s just those random women you run into when you least expect it.

I’m fortunate that I have very few family members in general and the ones who are childbearing age I can just avoid when I’m not on Facebook.  I don’t have that sister or sister-in-law being pregnant in my face and expecting me to throw her baby showers to worry about, which I imagine is particularly difficult.

But I have several friends right now who are pregnant- 3 in particular that I care about still having a relationship with.  They have all told me via text or email, thankfully not in person.  But now I’m struck with wondering what to do to keep that friendship going.

I don’t want to be around pregnant women.  At all.  I can’t trust myself or my emotions- half the time I see them and feel this scary, intense hatred (usually strangers) and the other half of the time I just bust into tears and am reminded how much I hate my life and stupid body.  When I take Sweetie places that I know we’ll be seeing pregnant women, I totally focus on her.  I try to pretend that Sweetie and I are the only people in the room.  That’s not really conducive to going out for coffee with a pregnant friend or having her over for a playdate.

It’s hard because I still love these 3 women as people.  I don’t wish them bad things.  I know that there wasn’t some grand lottery where their babies get to live whereas mine get to die.  I do wish sometimes that they could understand better what I have been through-  I don’t get how in my entire pool of mommy friends that I only know of two who have had miscarriages before going on to have 2 and three kids (oh and the one who always makes a big deal about her chemical pregnancy before she had back-to-back-to-back children one each 12 months- um, don’t think you get it at all).

So I care, but I don’t want to look at them.  I don’t want to attend their baby showers or hear about their perfect OB appointments or be their shoulder to cry on about weight gain or being tired because of pregnancy.

I can’t stand it when I mentally compare myself to them sometimes-  Are they a better mom than I am?  Do they deserve this more than I do?  Why do they get to have 2, 3, 4 healthy babies AND a living mother who is their best friend AND nothing else bad that happens?  Why doesn’t any of this get spread around?

I look at their children and wonder- why do they deserve to have siblings and my Sweetie doesn’t?  Are they going to be more well-rounded than my Sweetie because they grow up with other siblings close in age?

I know, there’s no point in comparing or trying to understand.  But it really does impact relationships and I can’t imagine that ignoring that helps.

So I’m really confused as to how I’m supposed to be a friend anymore.  As if I didn’t need any more ways to feel bad, I feel bad because I don’t even consider myself a good friend anymore.  My mom always said that to have good friends you have to be a good friend.  I have felt so alone and surrounded by ‘bad’ friends because people don’t want to hear about my grief or losses.  But then I look in the mirror and know that I don’t want to hear about their pregnancies or happy family building escapades so I guess it goes both ways.

So what do I do?  What do you do if you’ve faced this?  Do I just tell these friends that I care about them but I don’t want to physically see them until after they have their babies?  I don’t see how that’s going to work well, because who knows how I’ll feel about their newborns (although, pregnant women seem far more difficult for me to see than babies-  but baby girls are still awfully hard).  Do I try to change our relationship to a phone one?  But then it’s not really fair to ask them to never mention pregnancy because I have found that often pregnant women end up feeling like their lives are consumed with the pregnancy and that’s all they can talk and think about.  Or is it fair to ask that?  Will any of this get better if my surrogate gets pregnant soon and I know I have a baby coming half a year or so after theirs is born?

I just feel like I’m destined to have no friends because I cannot be a good friend.  Just another thing Recurrent Pregnancy Loss has stolen from my life and another thing to feel like a giant jerk about.

Yet another announcement

I told myself that I wasn’t going to write another blog post until I had something positive to say.  I try to read lots of other blogs now and I’m always loving on their wit and upbeat nature and whatnot.  Why can’t I be like that?  I’m just a downer and if I wait to be positive, I don’t think I’ll ever write again.

I got another email this afternoon-  the third in 2 weeks (but who’s counting) that yep, another friend is pregnant.  This one has three kids and was the person who made the worst comment about surrogates being crazy because she worked with a crazy one and she would never use a surrogate.  Then she proceeds to say that this was a ‘surprise/unplanned‘ but very wanted ‘little miracle’ .

First off, why the fuck do fertile people feel like it makes it better to hear that their pregnancy wasn’t planned?  Do they think that as an unfertile, recurrent baby-killer, I will take the news easier because they didn’t PLAN to have a baby?  No- actually it just adds a few extra layers of mindfuck to me.  I PLAN and spend THOUSANDS of dollars on IVF AND take endless injections in my stomach and ass AND STILL the only ‘surprise’ I get at the end of the day is a DEAD baby.  So tell me again how you PLANNING or not PLANNING and still getting a healthy baby should make me feel better?

Second off, she proceeds to tell me that she wasn’t using birth control but they thought they were being careful.  I DON’T CARE HOW YOU GOT PREGNANT.  Maybe I’m not being fair, but I don’t get how two 30 year old married adults can feel like they have a ‘SURPRISE’ pregnancy when they aren’t using any FUCKING form of birth control?  REALLY?  They have 3 other kids, they know how babies are made (at least for people who can have sex and get a baby at the end and don’t require doctors up in their business to get knocked up).  I will grant her that this may not have been planned, but if you aren’t using any form of birth control, PLEASE don’t pretend to be ‘SURPRISED’ when you get pregnant.

Then we hear how she had already given away all of her baby things so this was ‘uncharted’ territory for her to start over.  UM, please, you send me an email trying to give me advance notice and pretending you are being sympathetic to the fact that I’ve lost 6 babies (and my fertility with the last baby) and then you put in that the worst thing that you are dealing with is needing more baby clothes?  Cry me a river that you gave away all your baby things.  Let’s talk about trying to START OVER after your BABY dies-  that seems a little more uncharted and challenging than having to go to a few garage sales.  Am I supposed to be the better person and offer her all of mine since I obviously don’t need them anymore?  Here-  Sweetie’s little sister DIED, so why don’t you take all her old clothes?

I’m just done.  I am too angry and bitter and nasty and I hate this world.  My Sweetie deserves better.  I can’t handle these cards I have been dealt anymore.

Navigating the minefield

I don’t know what it’s actually like to be in a country with physical minefields.  I feel sad for the children and soldiers and innocent people who have been harmed by them.  But I think it’s the best metaphor I know for living my life now- I’m in an emotional minefield.  Every day I wake up not knowing what will cause me to explode that day and walk away feeling battered and torn to pieces.

BAM- take a look at Facebook and a friend has a picture of her child in a ‘big brother’ t-shirt.  She had told me that they didn’t want any more kids, one was good.  This was an ‘oops and he’s due exactly one month after my baby #6 that I just lost.  Yep, and I emotionally limp away after moving her out of my news feed for the next 6+ months.  That’s not even taking into account the friends I have who I know are trying (or I assume half of them are pregnant by now).

BAM- it hits me that I should be hitting viability next week.  Every date has the potential to be hurtful-  I have had 7 pregnancies and thus 7 due dates, 6 of which are painful as hell to think about.  Then there’s the date that I actually lost my last baby- I count the weeks, every Sunday thinking that it’s been another week since I last had her under my heart.

BAM- I see women with bellies exactly the stage that I would be at.  I wasn’t really showing yet, just a little swelling of my belly.  But they are walking along holding the hands of a child younger than or the same age as my Sweetie and I’m just blown away that they will have the newborn and 2 year old that I should have had.

And I don’t know what to do to protect myself.  I took Sweetie to the zoo today and I prepared myself for seeing pregnant women and newborns.  But I was not expecting to go into the dolphin show and hear that three of their female dolphins are expecting in the next three months!   WTF?  BAM- all these freaking dolphins can get and stay pregnant and are delivering in the timeline I would be.  Argh, I shouldn’t start tearing up in the stupid dolphin show.  Good thing Sweetie wasn’t interested because they started talking pregnant dolphins and we bolted before I was all out crying.

I’m ready for someplace safe.  I need more places that are safe.  I’m so battered and bruised already that I can’t take many more explosions.